


Family Tree

by ishtarelisheba



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Family Reunions, Non magic AU, Rumbelle Revolution, Rumbelle is Hope, fauxcest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 17:31:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8676400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishtarelisheba/pseuds/ishtarelisheba
Summary: Belle French and Samuel Gold feel an immediate attraction when they meet. The problem is, they meet at a family reunion. Try as they might, they have trouble figuring out just exactly how they're related...





	

Belle and her father had only just moved to the states. She was still between jobs - still between friends and feeling more out of place than she’d ever felt, honestly - and her laptop had become her only source of human interaction for the few weeks it took to become more comfortable with everything in town. She fell cheerful prey to every time-wasting game and website she happened across, and the family tree site that a friend from back home linked her to in an e-mail was no different. Belle had spent hours upon hours filling in information and linking her tree to others via matching relatives.

The invitation had come as a surprise. She’d checked her e-mail one morning and found a notice sent by a Mallory Drake for a family reunion sitting in her inbox . Recognizing the name from a tree she’d connected to her own through her father’s side, she responded. The reunion took place in New York, which she found wasn’t a _terrible_ drive from where she now lived in Maine. She could drive it easily.

She’d rented a car and driven the four hours from Storybrooke to upstate New York, to the provided address. The house she drove up to was amazing. There were cars crowding the drive and lining the road leading up to it. Belle had never been to a family reunion so big. Truth be told, it made her a little nervous.

She waited until someone else arrived and started in, not wanting to be too presumptuous. The family of four walked right up the steps and into the house, and so she followed. She could hear laughter and talk from inside. The sound of it was lovely, and she stepped out onto an enormous lawn filled with the people who made it. A sparkling pool enclosed by a security fence sat to one side, and clear on the other side of the backyard there had been placed a pair of long buffet tables. A catering team stood by, preparing to set up. Belle looked down at the tuna casserole she’d brought along, wondering if anyone might notice if she chucked it into the bushes.

“Belle? You must be Belle! I recognize you from your tree photo! You can call me Mal,” said a blonde woman at least a foot taller. The woman took a look at her casserole dish and smiled. “You didn’t have to bring anything, dear!”

“I thought- Well, reunions for my mum’s side were always potluck,” Belle said, feeling a bit backward. Weren’t most family reunions potluck affairs?

“That’s just fine,” Mal told her. She took the casserole and handed it to a waiter as he passed by, coming out of the house. “Make sure this is on the table.”

Belle shook her head. “Oh, no, really, it isn’t up to the competition of catering…”

Mal put an arm around Belle’s shoulders and guided her farther out into the backyard. “Here, let me introduce you to some more of your family.”

~*~*~*~

It’d been more than twenty years since Samuel Gold had been to a family reunion. His father had taken them as an opportunity to get drunk, air grievances, and beg money off of in-laws - usually in that order. He’d stopped going at all after the year his father shoved one of the servers into the pool and called his aunt a floozy for dating a man two years younger than herself. Malcolm Gold, however, was six months dead, and Samuel felt safe attending again.

He got out of the car and started up the walk. Mal had a rail installed on her new and fancy modern front steps just for him a few weeks before, when he’d let her know that he would be coming. She’d made sure to invite him each and every year, despite his decades of avoidance.

She’d always treated him well, Mal did. Their mothers had been sisters, and they’d grown up together. The two of them had been best playmates until his mother died and his father decided to drag them back to Polmadie. They’d even managed to write now and then, keeping in contact until he’d finished university - after which Malcolm was virtually run out of Scotland on a rail, resulting in a return to the US.

He went through the house and out the other side, stepping into the familiar back garden where D’Or family reunions had been held for the last hundred or so years. Samuel had never been terribly well-received by most of the family, thanks to his father. He supposed everyone’s sentiments associated the two of them too closely for that to change.

Mal headed his way as soon as she saw him limping himself down the step from the patio onto the lawn. He managed to steady on his cane before she swooped in with a hug.

“You did manage to find your way back!” she said with a wide, saucy smile.

“Only just,” Samuel grumbled, though it was little more than a superficial grump. “I don’t recognize everyone…”

“Not surprising, after twenty-two years,” Mal replied pointedly. “People get married and children grow up.”

He frowned, looking around. “I’ll figure it out.”

“We do have some brand new attendees, though.” She looped her arm through his, bringing him out of the shadow of the house. “I put the D’Ors into an online tree. You wouldn’t _believe_ the people who have connected their own trees to it.”

“Is the bar open?” he asked, casting a look in its direction.

Mal grinned and patted his arm. “They’re setting it up. Here, let’s meet some people who don’t know you yet. Try to make a good impression.”

“Unlikely,” Samuel muttered, but she dragged him along, anyway.

Mal introduced him around. There seemed to be a couple dozen people who had ventured out to the reunion as a result of her online family tree, and thus far none of them had turned up their noses at him. Perhaps her online project hadn’t been such a terrible idea.

“Oh, here, you’ll get along with this one. She’s the sort who gets along with just about _anyone,”_ Mal said as she took him over to the table where a young woman sat alone, a book opened in front of her.

Samuel gave his cousin a wry look, unable to dispute her insinuation that he didn’t get along with most of these people. 

“Belle, dear!” Mal called, and the young woman looked up, turning in her seat. “Belle, this is my cousin, Samuel Gold. Samuel, this is Belle French. She’s one of those who found us through the genealogy site.”

The dark-haired woman looked stricken for a split second - he didn’t look that terrible today, did he? - before she smiled and held out a hand. He placed his in it, giving her hand a gentle squeeze rather than a shake before pulling away as if he’d been pinched. 

“It’s so nice to meet you!” Belle said, sitting down again and patting the chair next to her. “I don’t think there are many people here who’ve come alone. I was beginning to feel a little lonely.” She laughed, looking up at him.

He took the seat she invited him into, and before he knew it, Mal had hurried off to attend to something and left him alone with this Belle.

She was _beautiful._ He had to force his eyes away from her, staring a bit too intently at the grass in front of his feet. She was brilliant, as well. It only took a few moments of hearing her talk about this and that, how she was hoping to find work in a library or in research, hearing her insights and observations, to catch onto that. And she seemed somehow comfortable with him. She kept touching him - his arm, his knee. Only friendly touches, but still. It was more than he’d had in the last six months put together. This woman was kind, unafraid of him, ridiculously smart… Precisely the kind of woman he would choose, if he could have had a choice.

Samuel suddenly felt as though his world tilted a bit. For fuck’s sake, he was related to her somehow. That wasn’t the sort of thought that should cross anywhere near his mind.

Belle began to chatter about the book she was reading. It was a new best seller, something she picked up in the supermarket book aisle and hadn’t had much hope for, but she said that it was turning out much lovelier than expected. The characters were well-written and the plot hadn’t had a stagnant spot yet. He didn’t have anything to add, but he nodded along, smiling as though he understood the book she talked about. As long as she’d go on talking, he would happily listen.

“And the cover is so ugly. Look,” she said, closing the book and holding it out, and he had to look up at her. “The blurb is the only thing that saves it.”

Samuel followed the way her lips formed words. He could see her accent in the shape of them on certain phrases, and somehow that sent a very warm feeling into his belly. Oh, God. He was attracted to her.

He was going to hell. He was absolutely going to hell.

~*~*~*~

It was as if she were watching herself from somewhere outside of her body. Every time Belle reached over, she seemed to get grabbier as the conversation went on. And she found herself unable to be quiet. Samuel hadn’t been able to get a full sentence in because of her running mouth. It was because she was nervous about the entire situation, but she wasn’t usually _this_ bad. She wished desperately that lunch would be set out so that she could cram her mouth full of something and just _shut up._

Samuel should just walk away, she thought. If he’d come up with some excuse to get away, she couldn’t have blamed him. But he sat there, the small smile on his face actually reaching his eyes. He was being endlessly sweet, putting up with her rambling as if he weren’t bored of her at all.

“I’m so sorry,” she finally said, gaining enough control of herself to slow down. “I don’t usually jabber on so much. Really. I’m just-”

“Nervous?” he asked. “I’ve not been to one of these things since my son was two years old. I understand.”

“Oh! You have a son!” She beamed, glancing around.

Samuel shook his head. “He isn’t here. He’s in Florida with his wife and son. They couldn’t make it this year.”

“Maybe I’ll get to meet him next year,” Belle said, her hand resting on his forearm for a second before she took it back. Her gaze flitted over his hand. No wedding ring.

She could have slapped herself over the instinct to check for a ring. Married or unmarried, however sweet and handsome he was, there was no telling what sort of relation he was to her. Belle felt a bit creeped out by herself.

“Would you like a drink?” she asked quickly, standing. The bar had been mobbed, but it wouldn’t hurt to get in line.

“I wouldn’t mind something.” Samuel stood next to her, drifting a little nearer the bar. “So you’re related to Elizabeth French?” he asked. It was the only branch of Frenches in the family that he knew of.

“Through my father.” Belle nodded. “She married his uncle.”

“That would make us… second cousins?” he said, trying to figure out the greats and distances of it.

Mal returned, and before she could ask how they were doing, she was interrupted.

“They’ve finally gotten the bar stocked and open, thank heavens,” Regina said as she walked up, joining the small group of them. She handed Mal a Bloody Mary and looked over at Belle.

“Oh, bless you, darling,” Mal said, having a long first sip. “Belle, this is my wife, Regina. She was inside obsessing over the caterers’ lasagne when you arrived.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Belle said, shaking hands and doing her best to hide disappointment that her somewhat private conversation had been interrupted.

“You’re one of the newly located D’Ors, correct?” Regina asked.

“I am!” Belle chirped. “My grandpa’s brother, Noah, he married Elizabeth D’Or.”

“That’s my Aunt Liz,” Samuel said with a smile that faded quickly. “We’re… Did we decide what we were?”

“Cousins of some sort?” Mal offered.

“That’s what I was thinking,” Belle agreed with a nod. She wasn’t sure why the thought of Samuel being her cousin was an unhappy one.

~*~*~*~

People began pairing off for games at around half past ten. Samuel prepared to step away to sit at the table he and Belle had been sitting at earlier; he hadn’t played most of the silly games they came up with even before, but he certainly couldn’t now. It didn’t help that almost every single game Mal was telling the group about was made for pairs or more. Between his limp and how everyone felt about him, he might as well go ahead and sit down.

Belle grabbed his arm, though, as the fruit basket game was about to begin. He looked down at her in question. “Stand next to me,” she said.

“I don’t generally play these games,” Samuel told her quietly. “Apparently I’m not the best partner.”

“Would you play them with me? You would have a built in partner for all of the games you feel like playing, I promise.” She looked up at him with wide eyes that made his heart flip. 

He felt like the worst of perverts. “All right,” he agreed, unable to turn her down.

Belle chose to be a cherry on that first round, and she was guessed almost immediately. She looked right at Samuel during her turns as ‘it,’ doing her best to call out what she thought he might have chosen. She never could catch him, though. No one did. It seemed that he was the only person playing who never had a turn in the center.

“What on earth did you choose?” she asked, laughing as the circle of people broke up.

Samuel grinned a bit sheepishly as he confessed. “Tomato.”

Her mouth fell open and she swatted at his arm. “No wonder!”

“It’s a fruit!”

“Who’s going to think of that during fruit basket?”

“Luckily for me, no one,” he replied triumphantly. 

They won the egg toss with ease, then sat out Red Rover and capture the flag, both of them laughing as everyone collided and fell over one another for two games in a row. When Mal announced the mummy wrap and a pair of younger kids brought out a big basket filled with rolls of toilet tissue, Belle hopped up and tugged at Samuel’s sleeve.

“We’re playing this one,” she declared, her big blue eyes sparkling.

Samuel looked at the gathering pairs doubtfully. “Belle…”

“All you have to do is stand still!” she said, making her case. “Just stand there and I’ll wrap you.”

He groaned, but he went along. She took his cane once he was in position, setting it right at his feet, then grabbed a roll of tissue and stood at the ready. Mal and Regina’s daughter, Lily, counted down from five. When the teenager yelled, “Go!” Belle tucked a long end of the toilet tissue into Samuel’s collar and began walking around him in quick steps.

She paced herself and keeping the paper just the right tautness, so that it neither drooped off of his suit or broke as she went. Wedding shower games had turned out to be good for something after all. Once she had him wrapped from neck to hips, she wrapped his arms, then dropped to her knees to work on his legs. They were easy - simply stay in one place and pass the roll from hand to hand behind his leg, overlapping to make sure it didn’t fall down. 

Belle felt a wave of warmth through a part of her that she’d rather not have become involved as she wrapped the paper around his left thigh. Her eyes were drawn to the front of his trousers and the slight bulge there that she was rather sure _wasn’t_ before she began wrapping him in toilet tissue. Her hands hesitated.

“Belle?” Samuel asked, noticing she’d stopped. They were miles ahead of everyone, but that head start was rapidly narrowing. He made the mistake of looking at her. Seeing her down there made his head spin. “Everything all right?”

“Fine! Fine, everything’s fine,” she said, resuming her work and passing the roll around his thigh again. The insides of her wrists brushed against the fabric of his trousers, and she had to keep from squirming. Her thoughts were a little bit weird, and they wouldn’t stop. She muttered before she could keep the remark inside, “Kinda beginning to wish we weren’t related, though…”

Samuel looked at her again, this time in shock.

“Oh God, I’m sorry! That was over so many lines!” she blurted in horror.

“No, you- you-” he stammered, feeling ridiculous and not knowing what to do. “You didn’t offend,” he assured her weakly.

Belle set her mouth in concentration. “Okay, hang on, we’re going to win this,” she said, noticing how Mal and Regina next to them had lost the paper that had been wrapped around one of Mal’s legs. She saved Samuel’s face for last, jumping back to her feet and hurrying to wrap his head and neck. 

Lily called it. “We have a winner!” she said, running forward to grab one of Belle’s hands and one of Samuel’s, raising them in the air.

Regina stood with one hand on her hip, tossing the half a roll left at Samuel’s head while Mal pulled paper off of herself in long strips. Regina looked knowingly from him to Belle, who was helping to get the paper from around him, and gave him a smirk.

“Isn’t that illegal?” Regina asked.

Belle looked up. “What?”

“Wasting paper,” Samuel said, giving Regina a very definite ‘keep your mouth shut’ scowl. “Wasting a bit of tissue is mildly immoral, perhaps, but not illegal.”

“Don’t be silly,” Belle said, smiling as Regina cocked an eyebrow. “It’s a game.”

She pulled paper away from Samuel’s head. Her fingers brushed across his cheek, and a strange thrill at the touch made her focus on his face. His eyes locked with hers, and she didn’t think she’d ever blushed so hot. 

“Sorry,” she whispered, pulling toilet tissue away from his hair. It wasn’t just the touch that made it so difficult for her to concentrate afterward. It was the fact that he was looking back at her the same way she’d looked at him.

~*~*~*~

They had time for two more games - neither of which Samuel could participate in - before lunch was served. A line of staff from the catering company came out of the house, each carrying a pan or bowl to be arranged on the buffet. 

“Oh! Lunch!” Belle said, popping to her feet with an embarrassing quickness. Then she saw a girl carrying her tuna casserole out and clapped a hand over her face. She _had_ hoped that Mal was only kidding about setting it out with the rest.

She ushered Samuel ahead of her in line, and she was relieved that his finely tailored jacket was long enough to hide his butt from her view. She wasn’t sure she could have avoided a nice, long appraisal of the shape, if it hadn’t. 

They ended up right in the middle of a group of much older relatives making their way along the buffet tables. She was surprised at how many people were taking bits of her casserole to try, Samuel included.

“And who are you?” one elderly woman, stooped enough to be a little shorter than Belle, asked.

“Belle French,” she answered.

“And how are you related?” the woman went on with interest.

Belle explained it once again, complete with the confusion that she and Samuel had regarding their own relation. 

“Second cousins, that’s what you are,” the elderly woman declared, leveling her plate to spoon marinated mushrooms onto one side of it.

“No, no, Mabel,” said the older man ahead of them in line. “That makes young Samuel here her uncle.”

Samuel had only just popped a meatball off its toothpick into his mouth, and he very nearly choked. He and Belle looked at one another, an odd expression reflected in both of their faces.

“That’s nonsense,” the older woman said. “You wouldn’t know your own nephews even if you had those cataracts fixed. _He_ would have had to marry _her_ aunt for that!”

“Maybe so, maybe so…” the man said, going around to the other side of the buffet.

“First cousins once removed,” the woman on the other side of Mabel said. “His aunt and your great uncle? That’s what you are.”

No less confused, they finished filling their plates and sat side-by-side at their table. Mal and Regina joined them only a few minutes later.

“So,” Mal said, getting herself situated and opening her napkin. “Did you ever figure out for sure what you are to one another?”

Regina snorted into her vodka cranberry. “Bordering on incestuous?”

Samuel’s neck prickled with heat, and he noticed as Belle’s face flushed. He’d have kicked Regina’s shin beneath the table, if he could have reached her.

Mal reached into her trouser pocket, pulling out her phone. “I should’ve thought of this earlier. If you click on your name on the tree, the site shows your relationship to people. We’ll just solve the mystery right now.”

Mal brought up the family tree and clicked on Belle’s name while her wife leaned to look. Regina rolled her eyes. “Oh, for God’s sake.”

Belle frowned. “What? What is it?”

Laughing and shaking her head, Mal slid her phone across the table so that they could have a look for themselves. Samuel took it and held it between himself and Belle.

“It’s by marriage,” he said a bit weakly. “You’re only related to the D’Ors by marriage.”

Belle grabbed the phone. Sure enough, beneath Samuel’s zoomed-in name on her branch of the tree, the label read, ‘no blood relation.’

“Oh, thank _God!”_ she gasped.

“Looks like all the flirting you two have been doing all day hasn’t been so taboo, after all,” Regina said with a smirk, taking a sip of her cocktail. “Or as disturbing as I’d thought.”

Belle and Samuel looked at one another. He looked a bit shellshocked, but she grinned. She placed her napkin on the table and turned to him. “Excuse me.”

“For what?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

She grabbed Samuel, her hands at the back of his neck and holding onto fisfuls of his hair as she pulled him forward. The kiss was nowhere near chaste, and the tables around them erupted in scandalized noises before Mal explained over the sound of a cackling Regina that they weren’t actually related at all.

Belle licked her way into his mouth, her tongue finding places that made him thankful for tables with long cloths on them. She’d kissed him utterly breathless before she pulled back.

“I’ve been wanting to do that all day,” she admitted, her fingers flexing in his hair before she let go and sat back. Despite sitting in the sun, his eyes had grown darker. She allowed herself to enjoy the jolt of electricity that sent through her.

“Even before-” he began, swallowing hard.

She grinned. “Even before.” He blinked owlishly at her response, and her smile grew all the wider. She tapped the edge of his plate. “If you finish that casserole, I’ll make you appreciate later just how much we aren’t related.”


End file.
